by Amy Valenti
I couldn’t resist.
She yelped when I snapped the belt down across her ass, clearly taken by surprise, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the noise. “Pay attention, pretty girl. I’m nowhere near finished with you.”
“Sorry, Sir,” she gasped, and shifted position, presenting her ass to me for more.
I let loose with the belt, knowing she wanted bruises, pausing after every couple of stripes to gauge how she was taking it. Her ass, though we’d worked together to tone her up in the gym over the past couple of months, still rippled with every stroke.
That was one of my favourite things about impact play—after the marks I could leave, of course.
After ten strokes, I crouched next to her, brushing strands of hair out of her eyes. “You’re doing well. Can you take more?”
There were tears in her eyes, but she nodded enthusiastically. “Make me hurt, Sir.”
I nearly came in my pants at the plea. It had been so long since I’d been able to do this, and I’d forgotten how very much I loved making a woman cry, then wiping away her tears in the aftermath of a scene.
“Safeword if you need it,” I ordered, and returned to leave a new stripe just below the others on her rosy thighs.
After the twentieth stroke of the belt, I checked in with her again. She was sobbing quietly, and I took her hand, squeezed it. “How are you feeling?”
Alex sniffled and gave me a watery smile. “I think I’m good for a few more.”
Not many more, if I was any judge. I kissed her forehead and picked up the belt again, then put it down and picked up the flogger instead. A light flogging would aggravate the stripes she already had, but not do too much extra damage as long as I didn’t overdo it.
She sighed as I twirled the flogger, building up a rhythm with the falls before bringing them nearer to her flesh. “That feels good.”
I realised after a moment that she meant the breeze generated by the flogger’s movement, and let her enjoy it for a few moments more before I struck her.
I could practically sense her counting out the rhythm of the flogging in her mind—one, two, one, two, one, two… She flinched every now and then, and I couldn’t help but give her a few hard strikes to remember before easing off again. At the third one, her body went almost limp and I knew she’d hit subspace.
I eased off even further, letting the falls rain down on her ass in little more than a patter before stopping entirely.
When I crouched beside her this time, the tears on her face were almost dry and her eyes were closed. “Alex,” I murmured, unclipping her wrist cuffs from each other. “Come on back to me, pretty girl.”
She opened her eyes sluggishly and smiled, but then shut them again with a word that might have been my name, or something else entirely. I grinned and went to unbolt the door, then pulled her up off the bench, cradling her in my arms. She was deadweight, but I could handle her.
Getting her up the stairs was easy. I couldn’t tell if she was registering that I was moving her, or just flying through her own personal heaven. Once I’d laid her down on the bed and cocooned her in the blanket I’d spread out earlier, I took off my damn leathers, put on some loose sweatpants that were easier for my hard-on to bear, and lay down beside her.
It didn’t take long for her to come back to her senses. I had a couple of minutes to watch her fly before she opened her eyes and blinked her confusion at the change of location. “When did we move?”
“While you were flying.” I drew her into my embrace and stroked her hair, making sure to put one arm inside the blanket so my skin touched hers.
“It did feel like I was flying…” She paused. “Was that subspace?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“So amazing. I wanna do it again.”
I again pushed down the part of me that I’d have to face when this was all over. Not now.
After a few minutes I made her sit up, drink some water and eat a few squares of chocolate to bring her around properly. Her face lost the haziness of subspace and her pain began to register again. She didn’t complain, but she couldn’t hide her flinches from me as she shifted position.
“Lie on your stomach,” I told her, reaching into my bedside drawer and opening the new tube of arnica cream I’d stashed there the other day.
Alex complied, looking puzzled. “What…?”
“It’s to help you heal.”
She laughed as I began to stroke the ointment over her stripes. Some of them were starting to speckle with bruises already. “Are you sure you’re not just doing this as an excuse to fondle my ass?”
“That, too,” I said, amused. “But this really will help your bruises.”
At the mention of bruises, she tried to twist around to look at her ass. “Do I have them?”
“Lie down,” I told her calmly.
She obeyed with a grumble, letting me care for her. I was more grateful for that than she knew. I needed to coddle her a little now the sadistic part of me had receded back into whatever space it usually inhabited.
When I ordered her to turn over so I could minister to her front—particularly the portions of her thighs I’d belted and the nipples I’d abused with the clamps and my flogger—she smiled and flipped over, parting her thighs invitingly. It was difficult to ignore her glistening cunt, but I kept my focus on smoothing the cream into her sore flesh, ignoring the demands of my cock, which was rapidly growing hard again.
“How was it for you?” she asked softly, watching my face. I glanced up, but instead of the coquettish expression I’d expected, her face was serious. She was really asking how I’d coped with the scene.
I couldn’t remember Kristin ever doing that. It took me by surprise, and I couldn’t think of a way to answer, so I began to apply the cream to her inflamed breasts instead.
She arched into the touch with a smile. Her nipples had been hard ever since I’d clamped them, and she rubbed against my fingertips and sighed, still watching me.
“I don’t remember you getting off downstairs, Sir. Can I—?”
“Shh.” I laid a finger briefly over her lips. She licked it and made a face at the taste of the ointment, which made me struggle to keep a straight face.
Alex kept quiet as I finished with the arnica cream and then spent a couple of extra seconds tormenting her nipples, just because I could.
Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. “Just fuck me, Sir!”
“You’re giving me the orders now?” I frowned at her and got up from the bed.
“Sorry, Sir.” Alex made a plaintive noise and reached for me, then brightened as she realised I was stripping off my sweatpants. “Where did the leather pants go?”
I stretched out beside her, pressing my cock against the outside of her thigh. “I’ll wear them again sometime.”
“Can I give you head while you’re wearing them?” she asked mischievously.
I grasped the loose links of the chain still padlocked around her neck and pulled her face to mine, kissing her hard, possessing her mouth. She was amazing, perfect. She’d come through her first major scene without any problems so far, and she actively wanted to take care of my needs now.
I rolled her over, pressing my chest against her back, my hips against her ass, my cock between her thighs to rub against her slick entrance. Alex looped one of her legs back over mine as I eased into her from behind, growling my satisfaction as I penetrated her.
She moaned and undulated her hips, pushing me deeper. “God, you feel so good, Sir…”
I could have said the same about her. She was hot and tight around my cock, squeezing tighter as she tried to provoke me into moving. I resisted for a few moments, kissing the side of her neck, buried fully inside her.
Then, unable to resist, I pulled back and began to thrust slowly, smoothly, seeking her sweet spot on the way. She trembled and sighed when I found it, and I adjusted my pace to be sure of hitting it over and over again.
She held mostly still, letting me do the work
, still exhausted from her scene. I pulled on her neck chain with one hand, reminding her she was wearing my collar until this night was over. Reminding her she was mine. My need grew and I fucked her harder, revelling in her moans and the way her body tightened, priming itself for release.
I just hoped I could hold on for long enough to get her there before I lost control.
Her cries and gasps of the moment mixed with my memories of her in the dungeon earlier, taking my clamps, my flogger, my paddle, my belt. She’d been so brave for me, her tears of pain beautiful, her smile even as the tears ran down her face even more so.
“I need—” she gasped in my arms, shaking with the effort of holding back an orgasm.
The tightness of her cunt was just what I needed to take me over the edge. “Come right now, pretty painslut.”
She squeezed around my cock almost immediately, rhythmic clenches that undid me. I spilled myself deep inside her, holding her close, my body finally relaxing as white-hot pleasure suffused me.
I wasn’t sure how long it took for me to come down from the high, but as soon as I could think clearly I pulled out of her, coaxed her to snuggle closer to my side, and wrapped the blanket around us. She nuzzled my collarbone and the chain around her neck rattled.
Shit. Yeah, I’d forgotten about that.
I withdrew gently from her embrace, got out of bed and reached for the leather pants. A slight frown on her face, Alex watched me bring the key out of the pocket.
“Time to take off the collar, pretty girl.”
I already knew she wouldn’t want to do it. Every sub I’d ever put a play collar onto wanted to keep wearing it for a while after the scene ended. Circumstances being what they were with Alex, it was even less likely she’d want to let go of the scene and the protocol within it.
“Can’t I keep it on, Sir? Just until morning?” She touched the makeshift collar almost reverently.
“It’s not safe, Alex.” Even I wasn’t sure if I was telling the truth or not. It was extremely unlikely she’d choke, and the chains didn’t have any sharp edges—I’d checked when I’d bought them. But the combined collar and leash wouldn’t be comfortable for her to sleep in, and she needed to accept that our scene was over.
Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, but she said nothing, just tilted back her head so I could get at the padlock resting against her throat. Carefully I slipped the tiny key into its lock and turned it. The padlock sprang open, and I unhooked it carefully.
“What if you’d lost the key?” she asked quietly.
“I have a spare set to every padlock I own downstairs in a drawer,” I replied, setting the padlock and its key on the windowsill, where I wouldn’t lose them.
Alex lifted the chain from around her shoulders before I could do it for her, and stared at it for a moment. “Can I keep this?”
I hesitated, then nodded and handed over the lock and key, too. “Sure.”
She let the chain coil on the nightstand on her side of the bed as I slid back under the covers. I reached for her, and she was tense for a moment before she allowed me to pull her back into my arms.
“Sir?” she whispered.
“Alex,” I warned softly. I didn’t need to say anything else.
“Spencer.” The disappointment in her voice was clear.
I closed my eyes, wishing like hell we could have postponed this until the morning. I shouldn’t have put the damn collar on her. “Yeah?”
“Thank you for tonight. It was even more amazing than I’d imagined.”
I kissed her forehead, wishing I could promise her we’d do it again soon, that we could carry on down this road. I’d hoped, in some secret part of my mind, that I could get past my fears that I’d break her one day. But I had to face the truth. I was more sadist than Dominant, and I’d fucked up before. I’d fuck up again if I let down my guard.
By denying us what we wanted, I was protecting us both.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Spencer
I woke up to a cold, empty bed and sat up the moment I realised I was alone. “Alex?”
No answer.
I got up, pulled on my sweatpants, wandered through the rooms of the apartment, but found no trace of her. Her stuff was all still here, though. She wouldn’t have left without her purse and keys.
An image of her curled into a corner somewhere, crying and hiding from me, made my heart contract sharply. I had to find her.
Downstairs, the dungeon door was slightly ajar, and I exhaled slowly as I found her standing on the rug where I’d made her kneel the night before, looking around her. She hadn’t heard me come downstairs.
I waited, curious to see what she’d do.
She walked slowly around the dungeon, inspecting each piece of equipment with fascination, tugging on restraints and running her fingers over the padded surfaces. When she turned her face toward the door, I caught my breath at the wistful look on her face. She wanted to experience it all, that much was plain.
After tugging on one of the chains of the spider web, making it rattle, she put her hand on the door of the cabinet that contained my supplies.
As much as I loved her, there was no way I was letting anyone mess up my equipment.
“There you are.”
She jumped and looked over, slightly sheepish. “Hey. Sorry, I wanted to come in and check everything out now I can think clearly. I’ve never seen anything as fascinating as all this stuff.”
I came into the room, stood by her side and reached for her. She rested her head on my chest and the knot in my stomach unwound at her touch. “Come back to bed, Alex.”
She looked up at me, a plea in her expression. “It seems like such a waste to have everything here and just not use it…”
I sighed. “I know. But we’ve talked about this.”
“Yeah. We have.” She tried to smile, but the expression fell flat. She wasn’t trying to hide her feelings or put on a brave face for me; if she’d wanted to do that, she could have. She was a damn actor, after all. For a moment, I wanted to yell at her. She wasn’t making this any easier.
An uncomfortable moment stretched between us, and then she said, “I’m gonna go grab a shower. I want to check in with Barbara and see if she’s found anything new for me, and maybe head over to her office.”
I watched her leave with a lump in my throat; knew that I was losing her. After being so close to her last night, so in tune with what she needed…I was losing her.
It was probably my fault, but what the hell could I do? If I could be certain we’d never cross a line, never end up in dangerous emotional territory, I’d scene with her again in a heartbeat. But there were too many hidden sinkholes. Even last night, we could have stumbled into one. Even using my belt could have backfired under certain circumstances…
I went cold all over, thinking of what could have gone wrong.
Goddamn it. If she hadn’t sprung that one on me last night, when I’d been ready to do anything to make her happy, I would have seen that the belt was a bad idea.
I couldn’t see a foot in front of my own face when Alex was around. There was no way I could trust myself to do another scene with her.
And I fucking hated myself for it.
I left the dungeon, closing the door behind me and making a mental note to lock it the moment I had the key to hand. Then I headed out into the gym and attacked my usual punching bag viciously, working out all the anger, all the frustration and helplessness on the stuffed bag.
I was almost exhausted physically, though my emotions were still running high, when Alex came downstairs, fully dressed and carrying her purse. Her hair was still wet from the shower and she looked good enough to eat, but I couldn’t make myself go to her. It was like I’d thought the day I’d met her—I’d only corrupt her if I touched her.
She stopped a few feet away and gave a small, sad smile. “I’ll see you later. Have a good day, okay?”
“You too.” I didn’t even wait for her to get through
the door before I started attacking the bag again. I couldn’t. The rage and frustration at being powerless welled up so strongly that I had to either attack something or scream.
The door swung shut and I jabbed at the bag a few more times, then let myself drop to the mat, spent and overheated.
I’d fucked up both our lives just by being me, and I had no idea how to make things all right between us without risking her safety. I didn’t even know when I’d see her again.
* * * *
Alex
I’d totally forgotten it was Sunday when I’d said I’d go by Barbara’s office, and Spencer hadn’t corrected me, either. We could have spent the entire day together, but now there was this impenetrable wall between us. He’d put it up the moment I’d suggested we do more scenes together, and hadn’t taken it down since. And now he was laying into his punching bag like he was the angriest guy in the world. It was safe to say we were both in crappy moods.
But should we be? Shouldn’t the day after sharing such a wildly emotional, intimate experience have been full of cuddles and closeness and reassurances? I hadn’t thought this would happen, especially as I’d watched him last night. He’d been in his element. I’d never seen him so focused or sexy or alive. He’d missed doing BDSM; I knew he had. So why the hell was he still shutting me out?
What I’d felt last night had been so incredible that I could almost believe it was spiritual. Being the focus of his caring attention and his sadistic joy had been the most powerful turn-on I’d ever experienced. The pain had been breathtaking, a conflict between agony and pleasure that I hadn’t been able to define, but it had made me wet and almost high.
And then subspace… How could I resign myself to never having that divine experience ever again?
I wanted to call Kat or Giselle, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to admit to them that I’d failed to bring Spencer out of whatever darkness he’d shrouded himself in. I’d really thought he’d come to terms with his past when we had our own scene together, that he would see how great it could be and stop worrying about the past experience that had broken him.
